


It Could've Been Enough, Maybe

by Honbunbun



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, IT Chapter Two Spoilers, Light Angst, M/M, Short One Shot, Spoilers for Stephen King's IT, i really dont know what to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 05:16:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21332866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honbunbun/pseuds/Honbunbun
Summary: Eddie's graduated high school and he's already got plans to leave Derry soon, very soon. Maybe that's why he finally found the nerve to go by that house again, just one last time. Maybe Richie ends up there with him.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 96





	It Could've Been Enough, Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Super short angsty one-shot. I have no idea what possessed me to write this, especially since I am terrible at writing angst, but here it is!

Eddie hadn't been anywhere even remotely near _that_ house in years. 

Hell, he hadn't even be on Neibolt street in years--he avoided it like the plague. He did what the rest of the Losers did, and he pushed that all behind him and focused on normalcy as much as he could. Even when he heard creaks in the hall at night or _could've sworn _he saw something in the dark--_just your imagination_. 

He just reminded himself It was gone, and he moved on. 

He supposed that maybe ignoring the problem wasn't exactly "moving on", but sue him if he wasn't the best at healthily dealing killer, child-eating clown trauma. It wasn't exactly something were well-equipped to deal with. Which is why ignoring it was the only solution he could think of. It was why he hadn't gone anywhere near this house or this street since the day they all walked out away from it after their encounter with It. 

So he wondered why he was standing before the Well House now. 

Eddie wasn't sure what brought him here. He dreamt about this place sometimes, but it definitely didn't leave him with the desire to come back. 

Maybe some sick curiosity, or even an odd sense of accomplishment and _relief_ that he was finally going to be leaving it behind. Maybe he just wanted to prove to himself It was dead, and that he wasn't a coward. Regardless of the reason, here he was. 

Eddie could always convince himself that It was dead when he was away from here, but there was something about the Well House that made him so unsure. 

It didn't feel like a normal house, it felt like the air around it was being sucked inside, or maybe it was just dissipating completely--it was void and suffocating the moment Eddie stepped onto the dead grass of the yard. It seemed to stretch as Eddie stepped closer to it and he frantically convinced himself that was just his imagination. 

It was all just his imagination. 

The way the door practically screamed when he opened it, the way the house seemed to silently scream back--he was imagining it all. He had to be. 

Every step seemed to induce his fight or flight response. Each scuff of his shoes against the wood made him wish he hadn't moved at all--like maybe he'd be safer if he just stayed completely still. He couldn't help the feeling he was walking on thin ice; that it would fall through under him, like it had done all those years ago. 

And maybe now he was less scared of falling and breaking his arm, and more scared of falling down to whatever was beneath. 

_It's dead, you're just paranoid. _

He assured himself of this over and over, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was sleeping under his feet. 

But he still didn't leave. 

He wandered over to where they'd found Richie's missing poster--there was nothing but spiderwebs and dust. Eddie was glad for that; he could still remember the way Richie came completely undone at the sight of it. Nothing had made Eddie more scared in his entire life. He never wanted to see Richie like that again. 

He stepped as lightly as he could, pausing at the stairs, then decided he would definitely_ not_ be going any further up. He wasn't _that _stupid. 

Though, when he felt hands grab his arms from behind, he decided that coming here was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever done in his entire life.

He jumped and screamed rather embarrassingly so, but he didn't even have a chance to struggle before the hands were off him as quickly as they had grabbed him. 

"Geez, Eds!" Richie shouted, holding his hands up like he was surrendering. He looked almost as frightened as Eddie, but was doing his best to force some kind of smile on his face. "It's just me!" 

Eddie let out a strangled breath, placing a hand to his racing chest. "Richie!" he whined; he was trying to sound angrier, but he had been so mind-numbingly terrified he couldn't really pull it off this time. "Why would you do that!?" 

Richie laughed, but it was so cautious--or maybe still scared. Maybe both. "I didn't think you'd freak out! I saw you walking down here and figured I'd follow you since..." he looked around, grimacing. "Well, it's not like this a popular hangout or anything, so..." 

Eddie felt his chest stir a bit. _He was worried about me? _

Eddie blushed a bit. "Yeah. Yeah, no, I'm not really sure why I came here either." he admitted, fumbling over his words a bit. "I know that sounds crazy, but I dunno. Since I'm leaving soon it sort of felt like I needed to..." 

Richie nodded, but something was bothering him, a certain knit in his eyebrows that he didn't get often. "Yeah." was all he said, and it sounded so final, Eddie was left with the feeling that this conversation was suddenly over. 

This had happened quite a bit recently. The last few weeks, Eddie would start talking, and seemingly randomly, Richie would suddenly be so pissed off. Never outwardly, but Eddie could tell. The clench in his jaw, the tight line of his mouth. 

It sort of annoyed him actually.

Especially now. He was so close to leaving that he risked coming to _this _damn house, and Richie was still pissed off about whatever the hell he was pissed off about. Eddie tried to bring it up a few times, but Richie always assured him nothing was wrong and moved on. 

"You didn't have to come." Eddie snapped. 

Richie looked genuinely surprised at Eddie's tone. "Eds, geez, I just--" 

"No, y'know what?" Eddie started, getting worked up. "I don't want to know. You've been so freaking short with me recently, I don't know what you want from me. I don't know what I _did _to you, and it's not like you ever talk to me." he shook his head. "Rich, if being around me bothers you so damn much lately, then don't follow--" 

"It's not you." Richie said, much firmer than Eddie had anticipated, like Richie had just swung a hammer right through Eddie's words. They were lost, scattered, so Richie continued before Eddie could go fumbling trying to string them back together. "I'm not upset with you." he softened after a moment. "I'm... upset you're leaving." 

Eddie's heart dropped. "Rich..." he muttered. 

Richie shook his head with a short sigh. "It's just hard to be around you when I know that soon you'll..." he shrugged. "Well, y'know." 

"It's not like I'm dying, Rich." Eddie said with a little sympathetic smile. Richie looked at him, and he looked no happier. Eddie's weak attempt at comfort utterly failed. Of course it did, Eddie wasn't happy either, and it was probably showing on his face. He could never hide anything from Richie. 

Eddie sat back on the steps leading upstairs, testing his weight on them as if they might collapse. Then for good measure, he checked over his shoulder, making sure nothing was lurking there. Once he was sure it was safe, he patted the spot next to him for Richie. 

Richie sat beside him, so carelessly--wasn't he terrified the jaws of this house would open up beneath them if they were too loud--if it heard them here? Apparently not, because he started speaking loudly now, frustration shaking his voice. "It's just that I hate that I'm not going to be able to see you everyday, ya know?" Richie could apparently see the way his volume was making Eddie squirm, because he spoke a bit softer. "Do you know what I mean?" 

Eddie nodded solemnly. He wanted to be excited about leaving so bad. But his heart was broken; leaving behind Richie and the others tore him up. He knew he needed to leave, but he didn't want to. It didn't make sense, but he knew he just _needed_ to leave. 

_Come with me. _

"I know, it sucks." Eddie muttered. 

A silence fell over them, and they just sat beside each other for a long time. Long enough that the light floating in the windows moved higher on the walls as the sun dipped lower, illuminating the endless swirls of dust everywhere, reminding Eddie that nothing lived here. Nothing breathed here. 

It didn't comfort him. It was beneath them he was worried about. 

If he thought about it too much, everything below them, his head started to spin like he was standing on an edge--_too _close. The more he thought about it, the more it felt like a tomb. Well, he supposed it was sort of a tomb, so many had died there. 

Right down there, right beneath their feet. 

"I'm so glad we didn't die down there," Eddie suddenly blurted.

"Why are you thinking about this, Eds?" Richie asked softly, looking a bit bothered himself. It wasn't often they went this long without Richie cracking a stupid joke to lighten the mood--and Eddie hated it, but he laughed each time. "You're leaving this behind, don't let it get to you now." 

Eddie nodded a bit. He didn't really want to waste this moment with Richie either, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. "I know that, it's just... I dunno, I'm just thinking about it since I'm here." he glanced over at Richie, and something stirred inside him. "You're here. What are_ you_ thinking about?" 

Richie glanced down at his shoes. "Definitely not the clown." 

"Do you think It's dead?" 

"I hope so." Richie muttered with a nod. "I don't want to come back here." 

Eddie nodded in agreement. He didn't want to go back down there ever again. 

"But if it isn't... You _will _come back, right?" Richie asked, and the look in his eyes was so hopeful. Eddie almost forgot they were talking about the damn clown. Maybe they weren't. Not really, anyway. 

"Of course. I promised." 

"I will too." Richie whispered, and from there it was just so natural. As natural as the dust clinging to the air or the sunlight making it all visible. 

Eddie wasn't sure who leaned forward first, but it didn't matter. What mattered was Richie's lips on his, his hand on Eddie's knee. And for a few minutes, the darkness Eddie pretended he didn't feel laying dormant beneath them was just gone. For just a few warm moments, Eddie forgot where he was. 

But it wasn't _enough. _

It wasn't enough to wipe it all away. When they pulled away Eddie was both acutely aware of the butterflies in his stomach and the darkness stalking the halls. If he looked into the dark corners, his mind still seemed to distort the image, fear brimming up to the top of his skull. 

It just couldn't be enough. 

He loved him, so much. But this place was still evil and there was still something similarly so beneath their feet. Eddie wasn't so naive to think it was gone for good, but he really did hope maybe It would just sleep forever. Ben said every 27 years, but maybe It would need extra rest. 

Maybe It would sleep right through--right through Eddie and Richie getting out of this town together, living a normal life together, and dying together. 

It was wishful thinking, which was a nice word for a _lie. _It was fool's gold, it was a placebo. It wasn't real, but it was so easy to swallow, and for a moment it made him feel better. Maybe Eddie would let himself pretend it could be that way, that he and Richie had a future. 

It felt good to pretend. 

And sitting there with Richie, both of them speechless, but neither having the urgency to speak, he would've done anything, whatever Richie asked. He would've run away with him, he would've stayed in this town with him, he would've left somewhere with him--all he needed to do was ask--_Richie, just ask!_

But he didn't. 

Because he wasn't naive either. 

Maybe it was just the wrong time for them. Maybe the wrong _place. _But they both knew that kiss wouldn't take them anywhere, not anywhere they wanted to go. Not yet.

They sat there on the steps together until there were more shadows than sunlight in the house. They stood, and Richie stopped to just look at Eddie for a moment, like it was the last time. It was. 

"This isn't the end, Eds." he said confidently, and that look in his eye had Eddie suddenly feeling so sure of his footing. "We're going to stay in contact, okay?" 

And that was a promise, as real as the scar on his hand.

He and Richie would figure this out together, once they both made it out of this town. They'd contact each other and figure it out. Maybe that kiss didn't take them anywhere but it gave them the building blocks, they just needed the right foundation to start on. 

And this hollow ground wasn't it. 

"Okay." Eddie said with a smile, and he meant it. 

Richie smiled back at him, and that was it. That was their goodbye. He watched Richie walk away and it broke his heart, watching him disappear like that. It wasn't over for them, he knew that for sure. 

He didn't know he was going to forget him, though. That their promise to stay in contact and figure it--each other--out, together, would slip their mind as easily as everything else. Eddie never thought he could ever forget Richie, but he was wrong. 

And they'd come back here, and maybe he'd remember the kiss. And he'd remember that he loves him. And maybe, he wouldn't say anything, because how do you say something about _that_ years later? After forgetting each other? Maybe he'd hold it in, to not upset Richie. _For Richie, _he would tell himself--yet another safe, comfortable placebo. 

And maybe, just maybe, he'd die for Richie too. 

He'd die, right below where his feet were planted now. In the place he _never_wanted to be, the last place he ever wanted to _die. _

And still, he wouldn't regret it. 

Though, just maybe, he'd regret letting Richie walk away right now. Maybe the foundation they'd built that kiss on would've been _enough. _

It could have been enough. 

But maybe what could've been didn't matter anymore. Because nothing could breathe in this house. Not for long. 

This foundation would give way, and everything he and Richie started would fall too, because it wasn't enough. And it would bury him. 

He really would die here after all. 


End file.
